#6 ~ A Matter of Matrimony

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR (except Marcus Delaluci). All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 14 ~ The Serpent and Dragon Speak

Severus sat behind his desk, tapping his long, slim fingertips together as he watched the clock. It read seven fifty-five. Marcus should be arriving shortly. Severus had spent the last hour centering himself, so he would remain calm. He had no doubt Marcus would try to make him strike out at him, giving them an excuse to duel. Severus would like nothing better than to have Marcus a crumpled pile of dead wizard at his feet, but then, there would be repercussions, the least of which would be Hermione’s reaction. She had expressly asked him not to fight Marcus. Though he didn’t promise he wouldn’t, he was willing to try to find another way to handle the man, for Hermione’s sake. Though the idea of the blonde-haired, violet-eyed wizard even touching her, made him want to kill like nothing else. She was his, and all the pleasures that came with her. No one was going to take her from him, if he could help it.

A heavy knock sounded on the office door. Severus stood.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened slowly, and Marcus entered, his violet eyes telescoping, taking in the office sharply as if looking for booby-traps, before they finally fell on the Potions Master, reverting to normal.

“I’m here,” Marcus stated shortly, eyeing Severus.

Severus walked around the desk toward the bookcase that led to his study. He pulled out the tome that opened the wall, then turned and looked at Marcus. He gestured to the open bookcase.

“After you,’ he said tightly.

Marcus shook his head. “If it’s all the same to you, Professor, I’d rather you weren’t behind me when walking into an unfamiliar space.”

Snape nodded, “Very well,” he said, entering the study. Marcus followed him, his eyes taking in every minute detail. He looked at the books that lined the study floor to ceiling.

“You have quite a library here,” he commented, walking over to the armchairs and taking the seat Severus indicated. He watched Severus carefully as he walked over to the liquor cabinet and opened it.

“It’s adequate,” Severus replied, “Brandy or Firewhiskey?” he asked the blonde wizard.

“Firewhiskey, if it’s Odgen’s,” Marcus answered, his violet eyes telescoped so he could clearly see the wizard’s every move.

Severus removed a bottle, and picked up two glasses. He returned to the armchairs, and set the items on the table between them. He poured himself a glass, and then poured Marcus’. Marcus watched for any subtle hand movements on the part of his host, to make sure he didn’t add anything untoward to his drink.

Severus handed Marcus his drink, then sat in the chair next to him. He took a sip of his drink, then looked at him, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight.

“It seems, Mr. Delaluci, we have an interest in common. My lover, Miss Granger.” Severus said calmly.

“You mean Hermione, don’t you?” Marcus said, making a point that he was on a first name basis with the witch.

“Yes,” said Severus shortly, Marcus’ point not lost on him.

Marcus sat back in the chair, and took a sip of his firewhiskey.

“I agree. I find Hermione quite interesting,” he responded, looking at the fire.

“I’m curious,” Severus said, leveling his eyes at the wizard nonchalantly lounging in the chair, “How is it that you have developed an interest in her, when for months you didn’t seem to notice her at all?”

Marcus leaned forward.

“To be honest, Professor. I did notice Hermione when I first arrived here. She seemed to me like a cold, sexless little bookworm. I thought you and she made the perfect couple, and I wasn’t the least bit interested in testing the frigid waters, if you know what I mean. I like my women hot, and the only time I ever saw her break a sweat was when she was lugging books around.”

Severus arched an eyebrow at his assessment of Hermione.

“So what changed, Mr. Delaluci? What incited your interest?”

Marcus smiled unpleasantly, “Actually, you did. I saw your little performance by the Forbidden Forest the night we met up in the staff room.”

Severus didn’t respond. He had thought as much when Marcus inquired about Hermione’s state of health that night. He waited for the wizard to continue.

Marcus looked at Severus appraisingly.

“You have a lot of …stamina. You fucked her for almost forty-five minutes, not that I was timing you. By the way she was screaming, you were laying some serious bone. When you were finished, I got a good look at her, and could see that she liked that kind of treatment. And I thought to myself, that’s the kind of woman I could “get into. So, here we are.”

Severus took another sip of his drink, then said evenly,

“I assure you, Mr. Delaluci, there is more to our relationship than what you witnessed, and more to Hermione than merely being a vessel to vent your lusts. You could find any woman to slake your desires. Why focus on her?”

“Because she likes pain, Professor. And I like inflicting it. I could be as brutal as I like and not pay any consequences. Also, because you consider her yours,” Marcus responded, his violet eyes telescoping in challenge.

“I see,” Severus said, controlling the rage rising up inside him.

“You were a deatheater. You served Lord Voldemort. I had several of my own Masters when I was in service to the ministry. All equally as vile and cruel as your Dark Lord, the only difference being, they were already in power.”

“You were an Eradicator,” Severus responded, familiar with the Minister’s secret death squad and their atrocities. They rivaled the deatheaters in their violence and cruelty.

“Ah, I see you know about us,” Marcus said, his eyes dark and focused on the Potions Master intensely, “back when we were operative, that would have been grounds for your death,”

“Pity you were decommissioned then,” said Severus with a smirk.

“We are both violent men, Professor. We have both committed atrocities in the name of our Masters. We have also developed particular tastes that evolved from our service. I have a taste for battling worthy opponents, and for taking what I want from women. Neither of which I could indulge…until now.”

He sat forward on the edge of his chair now, eyeing Severus with an open hunger.

“Ah, I see, so Hermione and I can provide a fulfillment for your twisted needs.” Severus responded. His knuckles were white around the glass now, despite his apparent calmness.

“Like you can speak about twisted. I can only imagine the things you’ve done to that woman. How you’ve used her for your own sick desires over the years, keeping her locked away down here, fucking her at your pleasure. And you don’t want to share. I thought deatheaters didn’t mind sharing their women. Thought it was a common practice,” Marcus snarled.

Severus forced himself to ease back in his seat. He took a deep breath, followed by a healthy swallow of his firewhiskey.

“I am no longer a deatheater, Mr. Delaluci. And what I and Hermione share is not based on a desire to abuse her. I happen to love the woman, very much, and would not share her with anyone.”

Marcus actually laughed.

“Love her? That’s rich. If you loved the woman as much as you say, why haven’t you made her Lady Snape? Could it be because she’s muggle-born? Or is it because you prefer having her as your personal whore, with no true commitment? Last I heard, men married women they love, not follow them into the woods and rape them over and over.”

Severus remained silent. There was a reason he wasn’t married to Hermione. But he wasn’t about to share this with Marcus.

“You won’t share her because you are a dominating sadist, not because you love her. Why buy the niffler if you can get the gold for free? You make me sick. You and fucking Dumbledore, who lets you run around the grounds violating Hermione, then tries to chastise me for wanting her, and wanting to do the same thing. Bunch of fucking hypocrites. All of you.”

Marcus sat down his glass and rose from his chair, almost standing over Severus, whose eyes were hard as diamonds now.

“Listen, if Hermione is willing to let me fuck her, I’m going to do it, and do it thoroughly. You aren’t the only man in the world with needs, my friend. You don’t own her. You may think you do, but you don’t. As long as she is a free, unmarried woman, she can fuck anyone she wants, and I’m going to do my damndest to make sure she wants to fuck me! And I intend to give her all the pain she could ever want. If you want to call me on it, do it! I’ll gladly take you on. Deatheater vs. Eradicator. It would be a glorious, if short battle.”

Severus put down his glass and rose, stepping close to Marcus so they stood eye to eye.

“Mr. Delaluci, I would like nothing more than to duel you. It would be a quick answer to the problem of your presence here at Hogwarts, and your growing influence on Hermione, but…” here Severus hesitated, hating what he was about to say, “…but my current circumstances doesn’t make it a feasible option. I will not duel you, unless you do something to harm Hermione. In that case, you can be assured your days will be shortened on this earth.”

Marcus gave him a nasty look and swallowed down the rest of his firewhiskey.

“I don’t intend to ‘harm’ Hermione, any more than you have. Whatever I do to her, she will love it, just like she loved it with you. Now, I believe my drink is finished, and I shall go on my merry little way. We know where we stand, don’t we?”

“That we do,” Severus answered quietly, murder in his heart. Only his feelings for Hermione could make him refrain from killing this man right here, right now. Love was a powerful thing.

Marcus backed away toward the study door, not wanting to turn his back on the wizard. He knew the look in his eyes. Severus wanted to kill him. He felt his back hit the frame of the open bookcase.

“I’ll just show myself out, Professor,” he said, exiting the room.

“Oh, and I’ll give Hermione your love,” he called back, slamming the office door.

Severus stood there a moment, quaking with rage, his fists clenched so hard his nails were embedded painfully in his palms. He drew on that pain, trying to hold himself together. He failed and let out a howl of rage that carried through his rooms and into Hermione’s.

Hermione sat up in her bed as she heard Severus howl of rage and anguish. She had been reading a book on making relationships work.

“What in the world?” she said, closing the book and losing the page she was on.

She jumped out of her bed, in her nightgown and ran through her rooms, the Spell lab, the Potions lab, Severus’ office and into his study, where she found him, standing before the fireplace, his head lowered and hair hanging in his face. He was trembling.

“Severus?” she called, about to cross the room and find out what was wrong with him.

“Get out,” he said in a low voice, “Hermione, please leave my rooms and go back to bed. I don’t need you here. Please go.”

Hermione stood by the door, wavering.

“Go!” Severus bellowed at her, his eyes flashing with misdirected rage.

Hermione backed out of his study, and returned to her rooms, scared and concerned. This would have been the perfect time for him to have opened up and tell her what was wrong. But he didn’t. Again he let rage rule him.

She got back into her bed, and pulled the covers over her, up to her chin. She blinked back tears.

“Severus, won’t you ever change?” she whispered into the night.

He heard her. A subtle slip in their connection. He dropped into the armchair and pressed his face into his hands.

Damn.

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A/N: That was quite a talk. Interested in your thoughts on this chapter. Please review.